“Oh, I don’t know. I think you guys were bonding this morning.”
“I don’t know if I can—”
Hands gripped her shoulders, turning her toward him and his head dipped, emerald eyes blazing deeply into hers. “We’re in this together, Angel. Theo doesn’t need a mother. He needs you and he needs you to acknowledge that you’re family.”
“We,” Gabby said. “No matter what happens between us, I’ll never make it difficult for you to know your son.”
“Our son,” he said, giving her a reminder shake.
Gabby shook her head, unable to speak through the giant size boulder lodged in her throat.
“We have a son,” she whispered. The tears she’d been holding back finally streamed down her cheeks.
“Heaven help us,” Declan chuckled.
She punched him lightly on the chest before resting her face on it. He held her through her shifting emotions of joy, sadness, bittersweet fury, and back to joy.
The exit door opened again, and she heard Declan murmur to someone. Gabby didn’t care who saw her crying on her ex-husband’s chest.
The shell around her heart cracked open and tentative tendrils of hope sneaked through. And hope was what everyone needed right now.
17
Killing someone in cold blood had never crossed her mind until today.
Watching Raul Ortega struggle to breathe while lying on a cot in his cell didn’t even come close to giving her the satisfaction she needed. Floor-to-ceiling safety glass took the place of prison bars. The holding cell was big enough to accommodate a portable patient monitor.
The captain allowed her to see Ortega after she and Declan gave their blood samples. She’d been watching the crime lord for over ten minutes, not saying a word, letting her hatred of him drive her thoughts to a morbid turn.
Maybe she had a fever.
Some of the guys in the war room looked flushed, their temperatures were elevated and they’d been separated from the rest of the group. Bristow was cautiously optimistic that their response was simply mass hysteria, which wouldn’t be unusual under the circumstances.
Ortega shifted on his cot; his skin was almost purple and glistened with sweat. He turned his head and opened his eyes. A ghost of a smile touched his mouth.
“Detective Woodward,” he said. “This is an honor.” He heaved himself to a sitting position. Swiping under his nose, his hand came away with blood. He sighed as he reached for a tissue on the makeshift nightstand beside him. “If I’d known this was going to be messy, I wouldn’t have exposed myself to the virus.”
Gabby didn’t say anything.
That seemed to irritate Ortega. “I despise the silent treatment. Talk to me. Tell me how much you admire my cunning for running circles around the LAPD all these years.”
“Not so untouchable now, are you?” she asked.
“I blame the chemo,” he returned. “Fried some of my brain cells.”
“I know what you did,” Gabby pushed the words out with difficulty. This bastard would not see how much he’d hurt her.
Ortega’s eyes grew shifty. “The shopping mall incident. Bah, I was making a statement to your mayor. Thinks I’ll give up LA.” He gave a brief snort which ended in a coughing fit. More blood. “I’ll tell you this. Better me than the cartel. I have no proof, but I know someone in the cartel has his ear.”
Gabby had heard that rumor but pushed it away so she could state her purpose. “I know you killed my father. I know about your affair with Claudette.”
The man’s shoulders stiffened, and he glowered at her, his mouth curling, baring teeth. “La puta. She sang like a canary, didn’t she?”
Gabby pushed back from the wall and approached the enclosure, pulling down her mask. “Your big dick was little after all, wasn’t it?”
“You dare talk to me this way?” he snarled.
She laughed, a grating mocking sound, and judging by how Ortega’s eyes flashed in fury, she succeeded in hitting a nerve. “Tsk. Tsk. The once mighty Raul Ortega, reduced to shitting in a pot in the corner.” The man before her vibrated with so much rage, he sputtered but didn’t manage to say anything—anything that she understood at least.
“I’m going after your cronies.” A smile touched her lips when Ortega grew wary. “And your sister, Ariana? I’m going after her too.”
The once powerful crime lord tried to rise from the bed but fell back weakly.
“Leave her alone,” he gritted. “No one threatens Ariana. Haven’t you learned from what happened to your father?”
Ortega’s face grimaced. Gabby wasn’t sure if it was from the virus ravaging his body or because of an unintended slip. “Did my father threaten Ariana? Is that why you had him killed?”
Silence.
“Everything’s falling apart,” she continued to taunt him. “The cartel you double-crossed? They probably already got to her.”
“You have to protect her.” He said finally and dropped his gaze to the cold jail floor, his whole demeanor was extremely troubled. Then he lifted his eyes and held her stare. “Your mayor will let the cartel take over South Central and the Valley. I’m the only one standing in their way.”
The door to the cell block opened and a nurse came in flanked by two guards. All three were wearing biohazard suits.
“We’re going to open his cell,” the nurse told her. “He’s exhibiting advanced symptoms.”
Gabby glanced up at the surveillance camera at the corner ceiling. She was being monitored after all. Her eyes fell back on Ortega and they exchanged an unspoken challenge.
“You need to leave,” the nurse added.
“I’m done here anyway,” Gabby said and walked to the exit.
She left the block of cells and left the man who’d murdered her father. Because of his sordid affair with Claudette, she had lost years with Theo and the feelings she should have enjoyed as a mother. She and Declan might still be divorced, but she’d never gotten so much closure in one day.
Yet her instincts were telling her this was far from over.
Among all the dozens of blood samples, only Captain Mitchell and Chen’s revealed traces of the Z-91 virus and both were admitted immediately to the quarantine wing of Downtown Medical Center in accordance with bioterrorism protocols. With Mitchell and Chen out of commission, Kelso and Gabby were put in charge of GHD by the mayor and the LA Chief of Police.
The pelican case containing the Z-91 virus pearls was handed to Garrison who shepherded them to the Los Angeles quarantine station of the CDC, along with Raul Ortega who was for all accounts patient zero for this particular derivative of Ebola. Further tests needed to be conducted on him while he was still alive.
As Gabby packed case binders into a box, she muttered. “Why are we doing this again?”
“Bioterrorism protocol 101,” Kelso said one desk over. “GHD is on mandatory leave for at least three days after both of us were put in charge. How’s that for a vote of confidence?”
“Not me,” Delgado piped in. “Apparently I get guard duty.”
“Hey, you volunteered,” one of the patrol officers attached to their division muttered. “Someone couldn’t stand to spend three days babysitting his kids.”
“Fuck you, asshole.” Delgado threw a stress ball at the speaker.
“How about you, Nadia?” Gabby asked.
“You think I’m gonna leave my lab unsupervised?” their crime analyst said and turned slitted eyes at Declan. “After your friend commandeered my evidence?”
He chuckled as he grabbed another box for Gabby to fill. “He’s not my friend.”
“Of course, I’m just a small shrimp in the ocean,” Nadia said. “I’m not the CDC.” She gestured air quotes around the acronym.
Gabby inwardly smiled as Nadia continued to rant. The exchange between Nadia and Garrison had been hilarious. She was very territorial about items that crossed the threshold of her lab.
“Kelso, I’m just about done. Can you handle these two box
es?” Gabby said. “It’s our shared case files.”
But her partner knew why Gabby was anxious to get home. No one except the people in the captain’s office knew about Theo.
“Go ahead, Gab,” Kelso’s eyes softened. “Go see him.”
18
“We can’t tell him yet,” Gabby said, staring at the house, frozen in the passenger seat, unable to make her limbs move to get out of the car.
“I agree.” Declan tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. It was nine in the evening and they’d been gone since dawn. He’d turned off the engine a few minutes ago, but it seemed he was giving her time to get her wits about her. “Come on, Angel. He’s just a seventeen-year-old kid.”
She angled her eyes at him, noting the flash of his grin in the darkness. “You and I know Theo is not an ordinary teenager.”
“Didn’t think you’d let his star status intimidate you.”
“I’m not intimidated.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“You can quit being annoying,” she grouched and pushed open her door, slamming it with more force than she intended, and stalked toward the house.
She heard footsteps behind her as Declan pulled back her arm. “Hey … are we fighting already?”
His question rubbed her the wrong way, so she got into his face and snarled, “Let’s get one thing straight, Roarke. We’re not in a relationship. In no way have I agreed to one. The boy in there”—she pointed toward the house—“is our priority. Not our feelings. Not our guilt over how we fucked things up between us. Clear?”
Declan stepped back and crossed his arms. “What’s up your ass?”
“Argh!” Gabby wanted to smack the befuddled look off his face. “I would think seventeen years would have taught you more about women. You’re still clueless. God!”
She stomped away from him, and this time, he did not try to catch up with her, but she saw his reflection in the sidelights of the door, following her a few paces behind.
Levi opened the door, brow raised questioningly.
“We’re fine,” Gabby muttered, pushing past Theo’s mammoth bodyguard. “Where’s my brother?”
“He’s getting ready.”
“For what?”
“Some shindig down at Revenant Ranch,” Levi said.
“How did his check-up go?”
“Cleared and permitted to party,” Theo called from the hallway, striding up to them. He was freshly showered, and he was wearing some rock band’s tee, tight-fitting black jeans, and a pair of his special edition Converse sneakers. Gabby had seen his ad on a Sunset Boulevard billboard. Theo larger than life.
A feeling of inadequacy filled her. Did Theo even need to know she was his mother? From where she was standing, he was doing fine all on his own. “That doesn’t mean you can go ahead and stay out all night. You’re still on meds, right?”
“I stopped after the first day,” Theo replied, eyes looking over her shoulder and hardening at the sight of Declan. The teenager muttered an unintelligible curse, cutting his gaze to the side before blasting her with the full potency of his hazel-eyed glare. “You know what? I’m not even gonna pretend that I’m okay with this.” He pointed his finger between her and Declan. “We were supposed to be spending time as a family—bonding time. Remember?”
“We were called downtown, I should’ve—”
“And you!” Theo inched his chin up at Declan. “Father and son, huh? You’re full of shit. What’s happening here? You just want to screw my sister over—”
“Dec!” Gabby shouted when, quick as a flash, her ex-husband had gripped their son by the collar and backed him against the wall—thankfully, without slamming him.
“Apologize to Gabby,” Declan snarled.
“Fuck you!” Theo snarled back, spittle flying, both his hands gripping the unyielding arm that had him pinned.
Gabby forcibly inserted herself between the two, breaking them up. “That’s enough.” She faced the angry teen. “We were summoned to Division. I know we left early this morning. Unfortunately, Dec had to take me because I haven’t been cleared to drive yet and Mitchell wanted to talk to him because of his role yesterday.”
“Whatever,” Theo said, shifting to the side and heading for the kitchen toward the garage.
“We won’t get along if you don’t respect my job!” Gabby called after his back, becoming more frustrated by the second.
“It seems nothing has changed.” Theo threw a glance over his shoulder and shrugged. “I don’t know why I’m forcing this. I don’t need Dad’s money. You have the house to yourselves. Have at it.”
Levi glanced at them, tight-lipped, as he followed Theo.
“Keep an eye on him, man,” Declan said.
“Will do,” his partner said. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” A half-smile curved the other man’s lips. “And you kids behave.”
Gabby felt her cheeks flame as Levi disappeared into the garage.
“I believe we were given permission to fuck,” Declan drawled beside her.
Tingles skated over her skin, her nipples tightened. What the hell? She was exhausted, and yet there was a need to release all this pent-up frustration.
She shot Declan a nasty look before spinning away to escape to her room. She needed a long cold shower.
Gabby froze her ass off under the cold spray before flipping the dial to hot—which was how she liked it. The bathroom was steaming when she emerged from the glass enclosure. She put on her sleep shorts and a tank before she headed out to the bedroom, half expecting Declan to be on her bed again, but he wasn’t.
“Good. He’s learning,” she muttered, even as a slight disappointment rooted in her chest. She berated herself for her mixed feelings. And as she sat on the vanity and dried her hair, she wondered if she was giving those same mixed signals to Declan. She played back all their conversations from that morning—whatever she could recall at least—and determined that no, she didn’t lead him on.
Gabby stared at her reflection. Her usually pale olive complexion turned bronze in the California summer and the heat of the shower gave it a pinkish glow. Although she didn’t have patience on most days for makeup, her routine included a concealer, a peach-colored lipstick and a color-correcting powder that was all the rage. She tried as much as possible to take care of her skin. She was overworked, not dead. Her skin was one of the few vanities leftover from her previous life as a Hollywood star, and she protected it fiercely.
She grabbed the two-in-one serum and moisturizer that was worth a chunk of her salary and was about to scoop a measured amount with the tiny spoon it came with when a knock rapped on her door.
Her heart skittered, and she let herself exhale slowly before saying, “What do you want?”
“Open the door, Gabby.” Declan’s muffled voice held a hint of irritation.
Good, maybe he’d learn to stay out of her way if she gave him enough ulcers.
“Go away. I’m tired.”
“I made us dinner.”
“Not hungry.” Her stomach growled, making her a liar, but he didn’t know that.
“You need to eat.”
“Go. Away. What’s so hard to understand about that?”
“Don’t be a child. You’re trying …” the words got muffled as if he moved away, but then he returned and the knock became a pound.
Fed up, Gabby jumped to her feet and marched toward the door. “This is ridiculous. I’ve had enough of immature men who need things to be their way or the highway. I’ve just showered. I’m sleepy. Leave me in peace.”
“You showered?” His voice lowered.
“Of all the—I’m going to sleep. We can talk tomorr-”
The knob started to rattle as if a key was being inserted.
“Don’t you dare use your keys, Roarke!”
There was an exasperated, “Fine,” followed by, “Then step back if you’re behind the door.”
Something in those calm words sent her heart raci
ng.
A loud thump shook the door.
He was kicking it!
“Are you insane?” she shrilled.
“… warning. Stand back, Gabby.”
She stumbled back a couple of steps as another crash hit the door, and it exploded inward.
Declan stood between the frames like a pillager about to ransack the village of its prized virgins and she stood frozen with her mouth open even as shameless arousal pulsed between her legs.
“You … you … ” Words failed her.
He strolled in casually, critically assessing the door before closing it. “Could have taken it down in one, but having it hit your face would defeat my purpose.”
When he faced her, his jaw was set tight, and his stormy gaze scorched her from head to toe, with said toes curled in thrilling anticipation.
He wanted her. He wanted to eat her alive. A visual of his head between her thighs when he was avidly tongue-fucking her came to mind and her prickling awareness morphed into a raging inferno in her veins.
“Perfect.” He bit his lower lip and she saw a flash of his tongue. “Having trouble breathing, Angel?”
Gabby realized she was panting in short breaths, and she wasn’t sure if the damp heat at her sex was from the shower or from his stare.
“This caveman attitude doesn’t work on me.” Her voice held no conviction. “Leave.”
An arrogant brow lifted. “Make me.”
“I don’t want you.” Her voice caught, making her words barely discernible. Why was she saying the opposite of what her whole body was screaming? Good god, she wanted Declan to throw her on the bed and just fuck her. And judging by the way he continued to look at her, he knew she was lying.
And he wasn’t playing fair. Perfectly cut shoulders on a man was one of her weaknesses, and Declan wearing a tee with its sleeves cut off exposed obscenely defined muscles that made her want to explore those ridges beneath well-worn cotton.
He approached like a jungle cat, invading her space, overwhelming her with his heat, his breath sending a quiver she felt straight through her core.
The Ex Assignment (Rogue Protectors Book 1) Page 17